


finding hope in a hopeless place

by maybege



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, It's cheesy af, Love at First Sight, Slavery, You Have Been Warned, mentions of human trafficking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybege/pseuds/maybege
Summary: Trapped on an unbearable planet in an unbearable mission, Din finds that you - a slave to a local gang leader - make all of it just a little more bearable.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 32
Kudos: 261





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am very excited to be sharing this with you, the second part should come sometime next week. Feedback and kudos are greatly appreciated!

He hated it here. He hated it, more than he ever thought he could. It was a small planet system on the outback of the outer rims, led by gang clans and dripping in trade – spice trade, slave trade, any trade that was somehow morally questionable. Nevertheless, the backwater planet proved lucrative in terms of jobs and the last few weeks he had spent on here making as many credits as possible. Be it collecting an unpaid debt, intimidating the odd small criminal or hunting down enemies – Din did it all and with as much efficiency as possible. This time, Tobo, a young man from the local village had asked him for help in a job, of delivering a local artefact to one of the gang leaders. The split would be 50/50 and it was little work for good money. He had not hesitated for a second when Tobo approached him. After all, the job was pretty straight forward. 

  
Or so he had thought. 

  
Din cursed himself the moment it came to light that Tobo _did not yet possess_ the local artefact in question. 

  
Tobo still had the flowers of his childhood in his eyes and, much like many of the young local men, thought that the gang leaders were akin to gods. And it would never ever hurt to impress the gods. In an attempt to do so, Tobo had promised to do something which he was, in fact, not able to do and with false words he had pulled Din into all this mess. The temptation to just leave the planet was pretty kriffing big. 

  
After travelling around for what felt like ages but were in fact only 2 days, they had found out that the artefact was in the possession of another gang leader who was willing to part with it – for a price of course. Everything only ever happened for a price and if it had not been his life’s occupation, Din would have probably tired of it a long time ago. 

  
Of all the horrible people he had encountered in his life so far, Ziven was on the top of his list. Not necessarily because he displayed his violent tendencies (although Din was sure he did that in the privacy of his compound) but because he was _false_. The man was cruel and crude and he smiled in a way that showed just how much pleasure he took in pain. Yet the locals adored him, seeing him as the saviour that he was not and they respected him. Honour was such a strong currency here and he seemed to have a lot of it, although Din was not sure what exactly about him could in any way be considered honourable. No, he did not like him one bit and he trusted him even less. 

  
Nevertheless, Ziven was the one with the artefact they needed and Tobo was convinced that if they could just get this job done, the money would be more than worth it. Din hated that he was probably right.

  
The job that they ( _he_ , really) were assigned was surprisingly easy. Din was just relieved that at least one aspect of this whole cursed mission went according to plan. Tobo was no big help and while he waded through knee-high mud in search of some sort of … fish? he pondered what his chances were of just taking a bigger cut. In the end, he decided against it. The price was big enough and he had no intentions of risking another fight when he could simply leave the planet soon. With the stinky fish in tow and Tobo’s happy chatter in his ear, they presented Ziven with the fish and got the artefact that Tobo so needed. 

  
In record time they were out of the compound and gave the artefact to some weird collector and got their payment. Din was more than ready to leave, enough credits in his pockets to last him and the child the next few months. That was when one of Ziven’s guards tracked them down with an invitation for a feast in their honour. Or rather in Din’s because his presence was needed for his partner to be able to attend as well. And Tobo really, _really_ wanted to attend. 

  
And that was how he had found himself here, in one of the vast courtyards of Ziven’s compound.  
Tobo, in all his awe, could not contain his obvious happiness at being granted entrance to the oh so great’s compound. “It is a great honour,” he had murmured towards Din as they were greeted, “Only a few ever get a personal invitation to Ziven’s parties. I can’t wait to tell my parents all about it!”

  
Din's mind wandered back to the child, still on the ship in his little pram. He had been especially quiet these last few days and even though he tried not to, Din worried about him. Could children of his species get sick? And if so, how would he be able to help him?

  
Tobo’s commentary of the evening got him out of his thoughts again and Din’s annoyance only grew. He wanted to get off this planet as quickly as possible and not be imprisoned in some show of power by a gang leader half his size. His beskar glinted in the light of the huge campfire in the middle of the courtyard and he noticed how many of the people stared at him. With the night being typically lukewarm he was one of the most dressed people, everyone else showing at least some part of their body. 

  
In the meantime, Tobo kept on chatting about the various people he recognized and who were considered important in this planet’s society. Clan leaders and their many wives, some of the exotic dancers Tobo recognized form the healing baths and some of the biggest smugglers the galaxy had ever seen (Tobo’s words, not his). 

  
“A great honour is bestowed upon you, they even got Y/N out.”

  
“Y/N?”

  
“Y/N. She is one of Ziven’s favourites, I hear”, his neighbour explained excitedly, “Normally people do not even get to see her, she is the only one trusted with the younglings.”

  
He looked to where Tobo was pointing with sparkling eyes and that was when he spotted you. You were dressed in what even he could recognize as exquisite silks and see-through textiles. It was a rich dark blue much like the night sky he was looking at and his throat felt oddly tight. Your hair was covered in a net of gems flowing down your back and glittering in the lights of the feast. He had seen many beautiful people before – after all, he had travelled to more planets than he could count – but you … you were something else and he could not for the life of him explain _why_. 

  
You were standing by one of the pillars, glass in hand and watching the dancing around the fire. No one spoke to you but he could see how the men (and some women) leered your way, trying to get closer without being too obvious. It angered him, you being so oblivious to their attention as if you could not see the danger you were in – or were blatantly ignoring. Finally, one of the guests, a bit too deep in the cups if the way he swayed was anything to go by, approached you head-on. He seemed to say something to you but he could only see the way you recoiled from the other man’s touch. Everything in him screamed to intervene, to get you away from this situation to somewhere safe – where did _that_ come from? – but before he could even go one step, Ziven had already appeared by your side. For a moment he allowed himself to wonder what someone like you was doing in a place like this, with a man like this, no less.

  
Just because you were beautiful did not mean you could not be cruel. On the contrary. The cruellest women he had met had often been pretty to look at as well – as if trying to lure their victim in by looking like they could not harm a soul. Envy was a cruel thing and it was when he recognized the mean thought he had about you, that he tried to stop the oncoming jealousy. A fleeting desire for companionship and affection was no reason to accuse a woman he had not spoken to of being just as bad as the man next to her. Still … what _were_ you doing here?

  
That was when he saw it.

  
You had a collar around your neck – a kriffing _collar_. 

  
From afar it had looked like an expensive necklace, decorated with many gems and shining golden in the light of the fire. But seeing how you shrank away from Ziven’s touch, almost as quickly as you had from the strange man’s hands, a painful smile on your lips, it became clear that it was no necklace at all. Guilt filled him. 

  
“She is a slave.”

  
The modulator in his visor did a good job in hiding his anger at seeing you like this. At seeing slaves in general. Next to him, Tobo chewed on some skewered meat and flushed it down with a large gulp of some expensive beer.

“Yes,” he nodded as if it did not really matter, “but treated very well. Look at her fine gown and the jewels in her hair.”

  
“A jewelled slave is still a slave.”

  
*

  
You hated it here. You hated it so much more than you ever thought you could hate something.  
This planet in general – the people, the heat, the sand, the _everything_ – but at the moment your disdain was focussed on the feast specifically. Over the years, your ability to hide from the view of others had only ever improved and granted you a bit of peace in this hellhole. Not peace from Ziven, mind you, but peace from the whole charade that he put up in front of the villagers. Letting himself be celebrated like a king, you scoffed at the thought, scoffed at their stupidity and at the awe in their eyes as they talked to him. If only they knew, if only they would see what was right in front of them.

  
It had gone unnoticed for a long time, the way you avoided the feasts, and Ziven mostly did not care. He had other pretty slaves to show around, after all, ones who did not mind being touched who were handsomely paid for the way they would seduce the guests so they were putty in Ziven’s hands when it came to negotiations. 

  
But once in a while, he would remember how much you hated it. When you displeased him, when you cried too hard as one of the children was sold, when you refused to do his bidding, when you grew too attached … Those were the moments he would remember how much you hated being put on display and it never took long for a new feast to be planned and your attendance being declared mandatory. 

  
Despite your reluctance to attend the festivities, the other girls had convinced you to dress up for the occasion, promising you that the food and drink were superior to anything you’d ever eaten at the compound and that the guests were interesting to look at, coming from all over the planet and some even travellers from other planets altogether. You smiled at their antics, their fascinations at the many strange people and species visiting your ‘home’ and wished you could share it. After all, it should not be too difficult to like him compared to where else you could have ended up. He did not treat you badly, you knew of other owners around the village who were more brutal and more violent to their slaves than Ziven had ever been. He could be cruel, you witnessed as much, but never to his own slaves. _Why hurt my own possessions_ , he had said to another owner a few years ago, _I paid for them and their resell value would only drop with each scar I put on ‘em_. 

  
So, you took to hiding in the shadows of the pillars, hoping that with the many drinks that were flowing, Ziven would not take notice of you again. It had been stupid of you, flinching so hard from the strange man’s touch but his drunk breath on your skin and sleazy voice in your ears had left you no choice. Ziven had interrupted before anything serious could happen, of course, no one could ever touch what was his unless he allowed it, your opinion in the matter was of no concern to anyone. 

  
After reprimanding the wandering hands of the guest, Ziven had turned to you, anger in his eyes. In his eyes, it was your fault, always your fault. How could you have provoked the poor man so, knowing how attractive you were to other people? Better watch out to not cause any other scenes, you surely would not want to embarrass Ziven in front of his new guest of honour. Any of your attempts to explain to him that the last thing you thought of doing was to provoke other guests to touch you, fell on deaf ears. Ziven was too distracted trying to impress the stranger and had left you with a warning gaze. 

  
_The guest of honour_ , you thought to yourself sarcastically, taking another sip from your cup. Of course, you had noticed him. Word had spread fast a few weeks ago when a Mandalorian, a real Mandalorian, had touched down in the middle of nowhere and asked around for work. And work he did. You only heard the occasional whisper around the village. The man in the glinting armour who had done this, intimated this one, beat up that one, very quickly became a legend, a celebrity. Ziven, ever the social climber and opportunist gloated from the fact the hunter was working for him now. You truly doubted it was as easy as that but since you were not allowed to leave the compound you also did not know any better. 

  
How freeing it must be, you thought, to be your own master, to travel wherever and whenever you wanted to, living amongst the stars …

  
“They say you are the one who takes care of the younglings.”

  
You flinched at the sudden interruption of your thoughts and turned around. Standing in front of you, you noticed just how dangerous he looked and how close he was. There was nothing human about him, everything covered up in metal, face in a helmet and voice distorted by a visor. His comment raised all the alarm bells in your head. It was never a good sign when one of the male guests enquired after the younglings. Did he want to buy one of your precious ones? You could not imagine that a man like him would be kind, none of Ziven's guests ever were.

  
“I am,” you replied coolly, trying to hide the panic in your voice, “What is it to you, hunter?”. You raised your chin defiantly and stared into his visor. Ziven may but you would not let this man take one of your charges without a fight. The bounty hunter went rigid, hand travelling to a blaster on his hip and you knew that you were in deep trouble. How could you have been so stupid, disrespecting a guest of Ziven’s like that?

  
But before you could open your mouth to take it back, to apologize, to beg for forgiveness and hoping that he would not tell your master, it was already too late.

“Now now, my darling,” a hand appeared around your throat, resting on the collar and the blood left your face. Ziven was behind you? Oh, by the maker, how long had he been standing there? Had he heard what you had said just seconds ago? That question answered itself by the way his hand around your collar tightened, the metal cutting into your skin uncomfortably.

“That is no way to speak to our honoured guest, now is it?”, your master hissed into your ear, wet breath on your skin and you tried to cringe away from him but his hand on your throat did not let you move.

“Of course not,” you replied quickly, trying to meet the Mandalorian’s gaze through his visor in a genuine attempt at an apology, “I apologize.”

  
As soon as the words left your mouth, Ziven let you go and you took a step away from him, trying to put as much distance between you as possible. This put you closer to the metal-clad man in front of you and you could see that he had taken a step closer to you too, towering over you as Ziven continued to ramble on. You could swear there was a featherlight weight on your hip but you did not dare take your eyes off your master, in fear of angering him even more.

  
“You must forgive her, Mando,” he grinned, completely ignoring you, “She is very protective of the younglings. Too many people who want to hurt them, you see.”

  
The strange man only grunted but did not relax his posture at all. Your back was almost pressed against his chest and you could feel the cold of the beskar through your dress. Strangely, you did not mind his closeness at all. Mere moments ago, you would have wanted to run away from him and his interest in the children. Now, in the face of Ziven’s wrath, the man felt like a safe haven. And if there was one thing you had learned in your life, it was to trust your gut.

  
Your master was clearly waiting for the Mandalorian to respond in kind, to mock your worries about the children, but he got no answer. The longer the three of you stood there, the more you had the feeling that he was protecting you. Only when Ziven left – clearly disappointed that the bounty hunter had not engaged at his attempts at conversation – could you feel the shoulders behind you sagging and his hand leaving the weapon. It occurred to you that he had not tensed because you disrespected him but because he had seen Ziven before _you_ had. Huh, that had never happened before. Slowly, you turned around and took a step back, putting a respectable distance between you. His other hand fell to his side and you were right, he _had_ been holding you close to him. Your cheeks flushed at the thought, not used to this kind of affection when he so clearly had no interest in taking you to bed.

  
“I did not want to get you in trouble. I apologize.”

  
Your mouth opened in shock. Had he just apologized? To you? In what parallel timeline had you fallen that he would even consider such a thing? 

  
Not commenting on your apparent shock, the man in front of you went on, “Foundlings are precious in our culture. They should be treated as such.”

  
“Yes, th-they should,” you agreed and on an impulse added, “It’s been hard, you know. But when they come here I try to make it as homely as possible. For some of them, this is the only home they will ever know.”

  
The Mandalorian nodded in agreement with you and your heart warmed. It was so rare to meet another person – another man at that – who took such an interest in children and their wellbeing. In the back of your head, you remembered one of the girls that had talked about the Mandalorians and their deep sense of family and community. Before you could stop yourself, more words left your mouth. About how the heat was difficult for some of the children that had been brought here, how you entertained them with games and how the little ones liked to put their feet in the fountain in their own courtyards when the sun became unbearable. 

  
No matter how much you talked, he kept listening. And intently too, if you were to go by the tilt of his helmet, the occasional nod or even a little comment. It was strange, talking to someone whose face you could not see but at the same time, you felt like it allowed you to be as free as you wanted, sharing your thoughts on whatever you felt like. It was a freeing experience. 

  
“It is good to meet someone who cherishes them as they should.”

  
His voice rumbled in his chest and a flush came to your cheeks. _It is just the wine_ , you tried to tell yourself as you averted your gaze. How could you know that he was looking at you when his face was covered? It was as if his gaze was burning on your skin but not in a bad way, like Ziven’s. No, this felt different, this felt _safe_.

  
“They are very dear to me. Do you have children?”, you asked and tilted your head in curiosity. 

  
He hesitated for a moment until he replied, “I do.”

  
Even through the modulator, you could hear that his voice had changed in tone and gained a softness to it. Was that how he talked to his child? With a softness in his voice that would surely be reflected in his eyes as well? Would he be able to take the helmet off in front of them, looking into their eyes and tell them the stories of his many adventures? 

  
You had to smile at the thought. 

  
*

  
Your smile was as bright as the sun and Din was … he was stunned. 

  
His fingers twitched next to him, wanting to touch you again. The warmth on your hip had burnt itself into his brain when he had tried to get you away from the slimy hands of your owner. Now, he wanted to touch you again just to feel you. Something told him you would not mind. There was a spark between you when you spoke – like you had opened up to him and only to him. 

  
And he had done the same.

  
Telling you vaguely about the child was something he had not thought of doing until he had already done it.   
  
A voice from across the fire called your name, another slave. You turned your head, the gems in your hair catching the light and making you glow in the dark. Fascinated, he watched as your face fell before you quickly rearranged your frown into the look of neutral observation you had worn before your conversation. But no matter how good you were at acting, he was sure he had seen a hint of regret, of sadness, on your features. Was it because you had to leave him now?

“It seems I must leave you now, Mandalorian,” you said quietly, “I do hope you will enjoy the rest of your evening here.”

  
You seemed to hesitate a moment, then you bowed your head in respect and disappointment spread in him. That was it? 

  
He nodded once, then he turned around and left, back to the young man he had been sitting with before. Tobo asked him all kinds of questions about you, excited that his partner had made such an exotic acquaintance. Were you as beautiful as everyone said you were? As soft? _She is more than that_ , Din wanted to answer but he knew better. 

  
Still, as the night went on, he could not take his eyes off you. He watched as you talked to the other slave girls in the courtyard, as you danced with them around the fire, glittering skirts around your legs and strange eyes on you, as you were led away by the guards as the night ended.

  
When he left the compound, a drunken Tobo next to him, he could not help but notice that no matter how much you had talked to the people you knew, you had never smiled quite as you had smiled at him.

  
And if that made his heartbeat stutter just a tiny bit, no one had to know. 

  
*

  
That night, he hurried back to the Razor Crest, determined to wash the sweat and the grime of the night away and to leave this hellhole of a planet and the confusing feelings that came with it as soon as possible. Inside, he checked the pram where he had put the child to sleep only to find big dark eyes eagerly blinking up at him. Little arms stretched up to him, wanting to be held and cuddled. Unlike usual, the child’s fussing did not stop when he finally picked him up. Instead, the little one would not calm down no matter what Din did. He was still fussy, unshed tears in his eyes when Din undressed to get ready to crash on his bunk.

  
With a sigh, he stood up and walked over to the womp rat again. What was wrong with him that he cried so much? He had been fed, he had been bathed, he had had all the cuddles in the world and still, nothing would calm him. The gloves now discarded, he checked the child’s forehead with his hand and, sure enough, it was warm to the touch. Warmer than usual. 

  
In worry, Din furrowed his brows. This was not a good sign, it never was. Carefully he laid the child on his chest, caressing his little ears, certain that the unnatural warmth to his skin would pass overnight. _It will be alright_ , he promised the child silently, _tomorrow you will be fine again. This is will pass. It always does._

  
In the morning, the child was even hotter, weak whimpers coming from its mouth. 

  
He cursed under his breath and brushed over the little hairs on the baby’s head. Minutes passed as he pondered over the options that he had. He could try a bacta injection from the kit but the lack of injuries on the child’s body indicated that it was not something that could be easily healed. The next option would be to simply start up the Crest, fly back to Nevarro or Sorgan or anywhere where he knew people and get the child to a healer. But just how long would the child make it without any help? What if his child was seriously ill and he was the reason for his death? They were in the middle of nowhere and with bad luck, he might have to do a detour for fuel. The child whimpered again, weaker this time, and Din went for option number three.

  
Quickly, he bundled the child up and held him to his chest when leaving the ship again. In the distance, he could make out the outlines of the village he had been so desperate to leave. Only this time, he could not wait to reach it. The first shop he entered had an old woman standing behind a table, her goods displayed for some of the clientele though it was not particularly busy. Two long steps and he stood in front of the frail woman, voice harsh with desperation.

  
“Where can I find a healer?”

  
“We have one.”

  
“Yes, but where can I find them?”

  
“He resides with Ziven. Ziven can decide if the healer will see you or not.”

  
The modulator did not catch the frustrated growl that left his lips as he stormed out of the shop. 

  
*

  
“Well who would have thought to see you again so quickly, Mando, hm? And with a child no less. I did not take you for the type, hunter. It is so domestic of you I might call you Y/N. Then again, I _have_ heard that you Mandalorians are peculiarly invested in your young ones.” 

  
Din bit his tongue, focussing his eyes on the wall above Ziven’s head. _Don’t say anything, don’t say anything, don’t say anything._ If he shot the pillar there, would the gang leader be crushed to pieces as he deserved? 

  
The rude comments had started as soon as Din had voiced his request – let the child see a healer, then they’d be on their way again – and Ziven took great pleasure in them. His whole reception area was styled like a kriffing throne room and it symbolized just exactly what he thought of himself. He was a king and he gloated whenever people had to come to him for help. He was not the kind of person that helped others for the sake of it, no, this one wanted to help to boast about it, to publicize it, to humiliate those who were already on the ground and make himself feel better for it. 

  
Mando did not engage with the banter, stoically looking towards the wall, the whimpering child in his arms. The helmet had brought many limitations to his life but the one advantage he was grateful for again and again was how it protected him. It protected him right now, hiding the despair, the pure agony on his face from the onlookers. He only wanted to help the child. It would all be worth it for the child. 

  
“Very well. Your child may see a healer,” Ziven finally decided, bored with Din’s stubborn silence, “However, I need you to go on a mission for me in exchange. As soon as possible.”

  
Panic rose in him and the child’s ears dropped low, a frown forming on his little face, “I will not leave him alone.”

  
Ziven only laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Oh, but he will not be alone,” he spread his arms like the generous man he thought he was, “Y/N will look after him along with all my other children.” 

  
His eyes drifted to you, standing next to Ziven and looking like a statue. He could barely see your eyes move but when your master had mentioned you, he could see how your body stiffened, alarm in your eyes. Beneath the helmet, he furrowed his brows but his mind was occupied with the child and he could not spare any time thinking about you – no matter how much he wanted to. 

  
“I will do it.”

  
His voice sounded strange to his ears was if he as a listener from far away and not the speaker himself. Was it really such a good idea to leave the child here? He trusted you, although he could not yet exactly pinpoint why (probably your shared dislike for Ziven). But all the other creatures that roamed around this compound were suspicious, to say the least. Ziven droned on and on about how he needed a rare gemstone that could be found in the local swamps of the valleys. It would be easy enough, a simple errand run and that was it. He could live with that. Especially if it meant the child was safe. 

  
Din barely registered how you stepped forward, skirts swishing around your legs and motioned for him to give the child to you. Big eyes looked at him in surprise and tiny hands reached out to him, wanting back to his father. He choked out a sound that was not caught by his modulator but you were close enough to hear it anyway and a look of pity crossed your face. 

  
Ziven grinned and waved as if he was the one who ended the conversation, “On your way then, Mando. Don’t let me wait.”

  
Without another word, Din turned on his heel and left the room, walking along the corridors towards the exit. He was determined to get the job done before the next sunrise. That would leave plenty of time for the healer to look after whatever ailed the child and then they would finally be able to leave and never come back. The look on the child’s face would haunt him forever, of that he was sure. 

  
“Mandalorian.” 

  
He stopped and turned around to the voice that had called him. It was you. Of course, it was you. You were walking quickly to catch up with him, your dress dramatically fluttering behind you. The child was still in your arms, still whimpering and stretching his little arms out towards his father. His heart hurt. When you finally stood in front of him, slightly out of breath, he noticed how much smaller you seemed now, encased in dark tunnels. 

  
“Do not go on this mission.”

  
“I need to.”

  
“You do not understand. He always sends people on these missions if he does not want them to come back.”

  
“What are you talking about?”

  
You seemed desperate now, wide eyes looking at him in genuine alarm, pulling the child closer to your chest. “He wants your child,” you explained quietly, looking around to make sure you were alone in the corridors, “You will die in those valleys and when you do not come back he will keep the child as his own until he is old enough to be sold for a decent amount of money.”

  
Instinctively, he took a step closer to his child, to you, “How do I know that you are not part of it?”

  
“Don’t you see?” you laughed drily, “I already am, hunter. All these children I take care of? They trust me and then I have to watch them leave, knowing that I betrayed them.”

  
“Why now?”  
You sighed, “I am tired of it and he … he is special. I can feel it. And he can too.”

  
“So, you want me to leave? Without him going to the healer? Risking his health?”

  
The child sensed that something was wrong immediately, starting up little whimpers that felt like daggers in his heart. Everything in him screamed to get him back on the ship and leave this planet behind. But he could not. He needed to see a healer he needed to make sure the kid was safe and healthy. He watched as you shifted the child in your arms, bouncing him gently on your hip, a small smile on your face. Suddenly, the child’s ears rose again, a small coo leaving his lip as he touched your cheek. He trusted you. Perplexed Din looked on as you bonded with his child, quicker than most other people. You really did have a heart for children, didn’t you?

  
“The healer will take good care of him,” you explained with a gentle voice, brushing over one of the long ears, a wistful smile on your lips, “But are you sure you want to risk it?” 

  
He knew what you were asking and he knew the answer even before that. _Would you truly risk your life for this child? – I would risk anything for him._ And it was true, he realized at that moment, he _would_ risk anything for this little green womp rat – _his_ womp rat. And maker help those who tried to stop him. 

  
“Anything.” 

  
The child was calm now, resting his little head in the crook of your neck. You looked so out of place like this, excessively glittering robes that were obviously designed to show you off with a child in your arms and warmth in your eyes. Images of you and the child on the Razor Crest flashed through his mind, playing in the cockpit, you sitting beside him on a meadow as you watched the child chasing frogs. 

  
“What do you want in exchange?”

For a moment you looked as confused as the child when he tries to explain that he should not swallow frogs whole. Your brows furrowed and he had a sudden desire to smooth the frown out, to calm you down. But when understanding coloured your face, you gifted him with one of your smiles again and his heart stopped dead in his chest.

  
“I don’t want anything in exchange. Just make sure you come back.”

  
“I will.”


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos! <3 Feedback is, as always, greatly appreciated! The third and final part will be out on Saturday or Sunday!

With your warning, the job was as easy as he had at first suspected. Just a bit different.

As soon as he had left on a speeder bike towards the valleys where the stone was, he noticed people following him. Far away enough that he would not have taken notice of them, had he not been looking out more keenly than usual. It irked him that he would have blindly walked into such an easy trap if you had not warned him. _That is what desperation does to a person_ , he thought to himself as the bland landscape rushed past him. But his followers were confident, apparently, in their ability to track him down and kill him. Confident enough to become reckless and throw caution into the wind. They did not attempt to hide their approach and before any of them had the chance to switch off the safety on their blasters, Din had already put a hole in their heads. There were three of them in total, all of them were guards he recognized from Ziven’s compound. The corners of his mouth pulled down in a frown.

This could have been him.

At least Ziven had told the truth about where to find the gemstone.

It was easy to find, bright purple amidst the dark grey of the stones. He had had no reason to lie, probably assuming that Din would be dead far before ever needing to find the stones. With gloved hands, he pried the precious stones away from their brittle hold on the earth, storing them in his pack before returning to the bike with swift steps. He kept being on the lookout for more of Ziven’s guards. But no one else appeared on the horizon and so he sat back up on the bike and went on his way. It was almost insulting that Ziven had assumed that three armed men would be enough to decimate him. Mandalorians were warriors first and foremost and even caught off guard, they might have been able to injure him but not kill him. Not when he had a foundling to go back to.

The journey back took longer than expected so when he arrived back at the village, the sun was already sitting low in the sky. Despite his inherent desire to leave as soon as possible, he knew that Ziven would refuse to see him so soon after his planned demise. No, he would let the gang leader believe that he was dead a few hours longer until he could properly confront him about it. But that did not mean that he would not check upon his child.

Now that he had been there on two separate occasions, sneaking into the compound was easy. He was familiar with the layout and how the guards seemed to be sparsely placed around the area. The three missing guards had not been noticed yet and Din suspected that by the time their disappearance was discovered their bodies would have already been reclaimed by the sand.

He climbed onto the roofs, walking alongside walled-in gardens and courtyards in search of the younglings. He passed the biggest courtyard, the one where the feast had taken place only a night ago, and for a moment images of you flashed before his eyes. The way you had smiled at him in the light of the fire, how your eyes sparkled when you talked about the younglings, the way his hand had felt, resting on your hip.

Laughter caught his ears and he stilled. Listening intently, he determined that this was children’s laughter and there was a lot of it. With quickened step he jogged along the roofs and walls, jumping up and sliding down wherever necessary until he reached his goal. This courtyard was smaller than the last but it had a little shallow pool in the middle, water reflecting the light and throwing patterns onto the walls. It reminded him of the covert, of his own childhood, playing with the other foundlings while some of the adults had watched and laughed along with him.

Immediately, Din crouched down, laying low as if he was a sniper. While the adults were not the most observant, kids did many unsuspecting things and he did not want to risk being spotted because some saw something very shiny in the sky. Though there were mostly children running around, he did spot a few women, all with collars around their necks, watching over them, laughing and playing. He recognized a few of them from last night – he spotted the brunette woman that had pulled you away to dance around the fire – but most of them were strangers to his eyes.

But you were nowhere to be found. And not only you, the child as well.

His brows furrowed in concern. Had Tobo not said that you were the only one entrusted with the children? If so, where were you and what were these other women doing here? And where was his child? It was almost dark already, the sun disappearing behind the horizon and the shadows growing longer, there was no way you could still be at the healers. A sudden thought entered his head. A little worry screaming so loud it took over everything in his head. What if you were not with the healer? You had already told him that Ziven would sell some of the children, what if he was already gone? What if he was too late to save him?

He could focus only on this, this torturous thought that refused to leave his head even for a second? His breathing was too hurried and becoming shallow as he thought about how the child had looked at him with big eyes when he left him here, in their care. Despair spiralling in his mind. He just needed to see the child. He just needed to see _his son_. The children filtered out of the courtyard, hushed away by the women and two guards that waited at the doors, waving them inside. Din took no interest in them. In his mind, he was already forming a plan, where to strike Ziven, how to hurt him so he would give away the location of the child.

The first step was to wait until the guards had left.

Said guards had not yet left, still standing and holding the door open although the courtyard was completely empty. What were they waiting for?

Like a vision, you appeared out of nowhere, stepping outside in a flowy nightgown and matching cloak that moved in the evening breeze. You were holding a bundle close to your chest and his heartbeat quickened in anticipation. A guard stopped you, suddenly, grabbing you roughly by the arm and pulling you back. He could not hear it but he _saw_ how you winced from the pain. Din’s hand flew to his blaster reflexively. He knew he could not shoot the man now, it would bring too much attention to him and certainly get you in trouble. But by the maker did he want to kill the man for touching you like that.

You seemed to be very stressed, gesturing wildly while you were arguing with the guard. He said something and you pressed the bundle closer to your chest, the blankets shifting so that a green fuzzy ear peeked out. Relief flooded through Din and he took a steadying breath at the overwhelming emotion.

You really _had_ taken care of him.

Evidently, you had won the verbal fight because the guards left, although reluctantly, and the heavy door closed behind you with an echoing _thud_. Now it was just you and the child. Entranced by the view, Din remained in his hideout, observing as you gently unwrapped the child from its blankets and set him down on the floor. His excited coos bounced off the walls and reached his ears and Din felt his lips twitch into a soft smile. _He is well, he is healthy_.

From somewhere in your robes, you produced a little ball and rolled it towards him, kneeling down when the child rolled the ball back to you, giggles leaving his lips at the little game you were playing with him. Din watched you like that for what felt like an eternity. It was balm to his soul, seeing his child happy like that, playing without a worry in the world. And you fit into this picture so well, he could not help but notice. Your hair was open now, flowing down your back and shoulders without any gems or hair. You seemed a bit more like yourself now, not moulded into a style that was meant to present you to strangers.

“No, don’t go there, it is dangerous.”

He had been too lost in his thoughts to notice that _he_ had been noticed. By no one other than the child. Pride coursed through him, as the little green creature wobbled towards the wall he was perched on, coos leaving his lips and his tiny hand outstretched as if he knew exactly where to find him. He probably did. You, on the other hand, hurried after him, trying to call him back from the cool shadows of the courtyard. But the child would not be deterred from its mission and kept walking towards the walls, towards his father.

As quietly as possible Din rose from his spot on the roof and climbed down the wall, let himself fall down the last distance and landed easily on his feet. It was quiet enough that he was sure that the guards would remain outside – or rather inside. The child stood in front of him, looking up as if he knew exactly that he would appear at any moment and gurgled happily. Din lifted him into his arms, trying to shush him as to not alert the guards but unsuccessful in hiding his own happiness at being reunited again. Gently, he bounced the little one on his hips, grateful that his helmet hid the broad grin on his face. A few words in Mando’a flowed out of his mouth before he could stop himself being so open in front of a stranger but the child’s grin was worth it.

In the meantime, you had stopped dead in your tracks. Wide eyes looked at him in shock and your mouth opened as if to say something but you remained silent. The wind picked up and ruffled your cloak as you took him in, standing in front of you, cradling his child so close, whispering endearments in a strange language. How could one man be so … so different? Was this how people were outside the compound? A little voice in your head told you that, _no_ , he was special in a way different from the child. He was rough around the edges but he was also gentle. You remembered the way he had towered over you yesterday, so obviously trying to keep you away from Ziven’s wrath, how he had paid attention to everything you had said …

“It’s you!” you finally gasped out and then … oh, then the most beautiful smile formed on your lips, eyes crinkling at the corners. Din felt like he had been struck by lightning. No one was ever truly _happy_ to see him anywhere – except for the child. Bounties ran with fear once they spotted him and the locals usually had respect for him, if anything, but no one had ever been happy at seeing him. That had been a long time ago. But you – you did not seem to think about that at all as you were smiling at him like he had done something more than just returned alive.

Then again, was that not what you had asked of him? To just come back alive?

Hands folded in front of you, your smile did not falter as you looked at him and the baby. Your gaze fell onto the child in his arms, who was now chewing on the necklace around his neck.

“He is well. It was just a cold, you know?” you mentioned gently, “The healers took good care of him.”

“You took care of him, as well.”

“I promised, didn’t I?”

You had and somehow, he felt as if he was in your debt for keeping it. Had you endangered yourself by entrusting him with this information? What would happen if Ziven ever found out about your betrayal? The gang leader was not the smartest but he was also not stupid, he would know that someone must have warned him of the coming dangers. Were you not afraid of what might happen to you once he knew? Would you be able to escape? And if so, why were you still here?

“Why did you never leave?”, he asked with a tilt of his head, “If what he does is so cruel, why do you not leave?”

The smile on your lips dimmed and Din cursed himself as you motioned to the collar around your neck. Prominent even in the low twilight, he could see the blinking light on the side. A tracker. Why had he not thought of this before?

“I can’t,” you replied sadly, “I need my master to set me free. And I can promise you that he won’t. I’m too precious for him. And my life is too precious to me.”

That was explanation enough and Din found his interest peaked at the life you had not talked about the last time you had spoken with each other, “How long have you been here?”

You seemed to think for a moment, calculating the time you had spent at the compound until you gave up. “For as long as I can remember,” you admitted quietly, “Ziven raised me to be what I am now.”

Din found that a sudden rage filled him, only held back by the child in his arms. A rumble formed in his chest and he felt how his stomach churned in disgust. How absolutely despicable and how dishonourable. Raising children – girls – who would later become the pleasure slaves for the man who had raised them?

“Does he – does he touch you?”

He cursed himself for how angry he sounded but he was and he could not hide it – not in front of you. He had travelled enough planets to know that slavery was still common and that slaves did not have the luxury of choice. But he did not want to think about it, did not want to think about Ziven forcing himself on you. In his eyes, you were surprisingly innocent for a place such as this – not naïve, but innocent. You clearly had not lost your values to the corruption and violence of your environment, trying to keep the children around you safe.

Standing in front of him, however, you seemed incredibly relaxed. You were close, only a step away from each other, and your posture was open, your eyes still smiling and your hands playing with the silk of your nightgown. You trusted the child and you trusted him enough to be relaxed in their presence.

Why did that make him feel so … pleasant?

“Sometimes. But not as much as he used to,” you shrugged as if it was no big deal and your hair moved in a small breeze, “he did try to touch me at first when I was old enough at least, but he did not find me quite as attractive as the other girls and when it was clear how good I was with the kids … well, I just kind of settled into that role, you know? But I remember it sometimes, how it was outside and how the other girls in the village seemed to have a completely different life than I had. How they would sometimes talk about travelling into the stars, to other planets and systems.”

A dreamy smile formed on your lips as you gazed up to the sky, now presenting the vivid colours of the sunset. Even though you acted nonchalantly he could see the hurt in your eyes, the way you knew that what had and was happening to you was inherently wrong but having no way of ever being able to change it. He wanted to change it. He wanted to take you to the Razor Crest and fly up into the stars and lay the worlds at your feet. Anything you wished for would be yours if it only meant that he could watch you and the child together, playing on the Razor Crest, his home that could be yours too.

But instead of saying all this, of admitting the gravity he felt towards you, he remained silent.

The child squirmed in his arms, having cuddled enough and now ready to play again, so he carefully set him down. With a giggle, the child toddled away, back to the ball and started playing. You both observed him for a moment, a gentleness in your gaze that could be found under Din’s helmet as well. Then his eyes shifted back to you, glowing golden in the sunset hour, and he could not help but admire you. Not only your beauty but your character as well, your warmth, your gentleness. How could one person already feel like home?

The nightgown you were wearing was patterned with large flowers printed all over it. It was barely see-through and he avoided looking at you too long, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. The cloak lay around your shoulders but your arms were bare and his brows furrowed in confusion when he spotted something dark blue on your skin. A bruise? Gently, his gloved finger touched your skin. With a wince, you flinched away from his touch.

“It should not be like that,” he murmured, brushing down the length of your arm and stopping at your fingertips, “Family should not be imprisoned.”

“I am not family to him,” you replied before changing the subject and nodding to the child, “Now you take good care of him, you hear? Have you given Ziven the stone yet?”

 _No, but you are to me, even if you don’t know it yet_ , he wanted to say. And he got close – so close. The words were lying on the tip of his tongue, ready to let you know of his strange fascination with you. But he could not. Instead, he settled to answer your question, hoping that his voice did not sound too angry, “No, I will do it tomorrow.”

You nodded solemnly and stretched out your arms to his child who was still playing with the little ball. His face turned around, sensing that something was going on. As soon as he saw your arms, he stumbled over towards you, excited to have some attention. Funny, how the child knew exactly which people to trust and which to avoid.

“Say good night to your father, little one,” you whispered to him, brushing over his little head, “You will see him again tomorrow.”

The child’s ears drooped low as he realized his father had to go and he waved a tiny hand. Din’s heart throbbed with the now-familiar pain at having to leave him so soon but as he saw how the child buried its head in your neck, he knew that he would be safe. He nodded at you before climbing back up the wall and sneaking out the compound the same way he had come in without anyone being the wiser.

Back at the Razor Crest, lying in his bunk, his confusion grew at just how much the child seemed to trust you. Then, he had to realize, that he showed just as much trust in you, leaving his child with you and walking away, knowing that tomorrow he would be able to welcome him back and leave for the next adventure.

He just had to figure out how to make sure that you could come with him.

*

By the next morning, a plan had formed in his mind and he left the ship, determined that when he came back he would not only have the child but you accompany him as well – if you wanted to, that is.

With the stone safely stored in his backpack, he managed the walk to the village in half the time.

Ziven had gathered many people in his halls this time. Almost as an audience. Local villagers were strewn about and was that Tobo over there in the corner? Din could not find himself to care, although he was happy that the young man had apparently reached what he deemed a success. The place was packed so full of people that nobody really noticed him. It seemed to be some sort of hearing as a small line of people had formed, waiting patiently to talk to Ziven about one thing or another.

Din stuck to the shadows, determined to lay low and observe the scene before revealing himself. An audience might even help him in his plan.

He spotted you immediately, positioned to the right of the chair like last time. Like the other slaves, you were wearing a glittering dress with a low neckline and a slit up to your leg, revealing your thigh. The child was in your arms, gently rocked by you as it played with the necklace around its neck. Before he could step out of the shadows, you had seen him, sending him a reassuring smile.

His heart beat faster at that. For a moment, his eyes lingered on your form, admiring your beauty until he caught himself getting distracted. Now was not the time. There were more pressing matters to attend to. The both of you looked healthy and unhurt and that was the most important thing for now. He could still tell you how beautiful he thought you were when you were finally free.

Ziven was too distracted by the people begging at his feet to notice him. When it was his turn, he presented the stone to Ziven, who was clearly taken aback. More by the fact that he was alive than that he had the stone, of that Din was sure.

“No one ever managed to complete that mission for me,” the man mumbled astonished, suspicion colouring his voice.

“Might be because of the soldiers you sent after them?”

“Me? Sending soldier after you? No that is not what happened … it must have been soldiers of mine gone rogue, trying to catch the stone themselves,” Ziven nodded to himself as if he was proud of the story he was just now spinning to tell in front of the other people, “Yes, yes, Mandalorian. But thank you all the same. Not only has your child been cared for but you have relieved me of great danger. Therefore, you may wish for whatever you like of mine and it is yours, a sign of gratitude if you will.”

It was a cheap attempt at bribery. Promising the Mandalorian another reward for the unspoken order to take it, leave and then _never return again_. To the villagers, who were now paying close to attention to the display in the middle of the room, it made him seem like a generous leader, rewarding those who had kept him from harm. Interesting, how Ziven thought he could distract from his own unhonourable actions by simply throwing rewards around.

But that was exactly what Din had counted on.

He pretended to ponder his choices for a moment, although his decision had been felled a long time ago, until he finally pointed at you, “I want her.”

Murmurs spread around the room and your eyes doubled in size. He could see the shock you were experiencing, not noticing how the baby attempted to gain your attention by pulling on your hair. Your mouth stood open in surprised, looking at him, but there was also something else in our eyes – hope. His heart made a small jump and he tried to shake the oncoming feelings away. What was going on with him? He needed to focus.

“How dare you?! Going into my home, requesting my help and then trying to steal what is mine!”

Ziven’s face had an unnaturally red colour and he looked like he might choke from anger. That would simplify a lot of things, Din thought to himself. But it was only wishful thinking and Ziven remained very much alive and angry, staring at the bounty hunter before him.

He kept his voice purposefully cool, knowing that he was close to what he wanted, “You said I could have whatever I wished. I want her.”

There were several people in the room and they all looked to Ziven in barely contained anticipation. Honour was a big part of how Ziven presented himself to them. Breaking his word in front of them would not look good and it certainly would not help him in the long run. Din watched as a sickly-sweet smile came onto Ziven’s lips as he turned to you, “Is that what you want, my darling? I will let you choose.”

It was clear that he was up to something and dread filled his stomach. You seemed to know it as well, nervously shifting from one leg to the other, away from Ziven. You did not say anything yet, your gaze going from him to the child to the Mandalorian and back again.

Ziven interpreted your silence as hesitation and, in turn, did not hesitate to open his mouth, his voice booming through the large room. “Mandalorians are cruel, last I heard. Sick in their minds and in their perversions … is that what you truly want,” he mocked you, “to become a whore to this sick man and his needs? Whenever he wants? Forcing you to do things you could never imagine in your worst nightmares?”

Din clenched his fist in frustration. How dare he spread such lies about his people? About him? As if he could ever hurt you; as if he had it in him to hurt people the way Ziven did. He knew that these lies were meant to scare you, to intimidate you so much that you wished to stay in the compound – therefore not making Ziven break his promise.

What Ziven had not considered was that you knew him. You knew Din and you knew how he cared about his child, that he would never hurt the baby – or you.

“Yes, I want that.”

Shocked murmurs became louder throughout the room and Ziven’s face became an even darker red, almost turning purple. Din could not care less. All he cared about was how the guards ushered you to him, the child still in your arms and you shot him a small smile – something that only the two of you understood. Ziven ordered some guards to get the keypad that held the controls for your collar. His voice was strained but he did not make any attempts at hindering your departure. So as soon as Din held the child in his arms and the keypad was stored in his pack, you left.

You were not allowed to take any of the things you owned, so you kept wearing only what you had on your body – a ridiculously fancy and glittering dress that seemed so out of place outside the compound. But he did not care about your clothes or how unpractical they were for you. Once you were back on the crest he would make sure you got the gear you needed, if you wanted to. You could fly to one of the smaller planets in the Mid Rim, exploring the markets and maybe finding some new things for you and the child.

He helped to sneak you into the courtyard where many of the younglings were playing in the shadows. He watched you as you bid them farewell, tears in your eyes as you hugged every single one of them. It spoke to your commitment to the children, how reluctant they were to see you go, how they wanted to hug you tighter and tighter until you promised to visit again soon.

Both of you knew it was a lie.

When you turned around, ready to leave, there were still tears in your eyes but also a smile. A huge smile as bright as the sun and it made his heart feel oddly warm, seeing you so happy. As you walked out of the village, he held the child to his chest and led you to your new home. You were silent on the way, only the child occasionally entertaining you with senseless babbling and cooing.

When you reached the ramp, Mando quickened his step, happy to finally get off this forsaken planet. But once he was safely inside, he noticed that something – or rather _someone_ – was missing. Calmly, he turned around, only to find you still standing at the foot of the walkway, looking incredibly unsure of yourself.

“Why me?”

_Because you belong with us. Because you took him in and protected him without a second thought to yourself. Because when we talked that first night it felt like sparks were flying that came not from the fire. Because you made this unbearable planet bearable. Because your smile is warm like the sun. Because you deserve better._

“I need someone to take care of him. Do you want to?”

“What if I say no?”

“Then I can drop you off wherever you want to.”

You thought for a moment, considering his answer. And he meant it. No matter how much he wished for you to stay with him and the child, he would not force you to do so. The first planet you would land on, he would find a mechanic who could get your collar off and then he would ask you again, if that was what you wanted, truly. And if you did, he would do everything to make sure you felt as comfortable as he could manage.

“No, I think I will stay with you.”

He did not admit it to himself at the time but your decision made his heart quicken in his chest. With a gloved hand, he helped you up the ladder to the cockpit, the child already sitting in his little pram and happily cooing at his father and his new friend. He let you look around with wide eyes, taking in the blinking lights and buttons, fingers brushing over the levers and tools. He started up the engine, buckling into his seat as you did the same.

You sat in the co-pilot's seat with the baby in your lap, gently brushing over his ears. You looked so out of place with glittering robes and the excited smile on your face – it was a happiness that the Razor Crest was not used to but Din found himself liking it, cherishing it even.

“So, where to, Captain?”, you teased him.

“Anywhere you want, mesh’la.”


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the final part to this little series! I hope you enjoyed it and, as always, feedback and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

As the Razor Crest left the planet that had been your involuntary home for all your life, stars flashed in front of your eyes. Well, in front of the cockpit to be exact, but it felt like they were in front of your eyes. Close enough that you could reach out a hand to catch one of the glowing balls of light in your hand and keep it with you forever. Your mouth gaped open at the sight.

Mando did not seem to share your astonishment, instead, he pushed some buttons, flicked some switches and typed something into a screen somewhere. How could he be so casual about this? It was terrific! The feeling of pure speed, as the ship rumbled through the galaxy made you feel like you could achieve anything – you were in space for maker’s sake.

It was clear from your reaction that you had never experienced hyperdrive before and the child had found lots of amusement in your astonishment. Giggles and coos were directed at you and small fingers pulled at your hair. You marvelled at how fast you were. Space ships were truly incredible.

Mando showed you around the ship then. The refresher, the little bunk you could sleep on, a small kitchenette stocked with a few packs of rations and lots of empty shelves (“I am going on a supply run soon,” he had explained as if he needed to justify the lack of food to you, “Got quite a lot of credits these past few weeks, they should cover us for some time.”) and the hull of the ship, with many different crates standing around and some carbonited people you chose to ignore. It was very different from the compound, it was dark and cool and small but you would not want to change anything about it.

The first few days on the ship were weird. You were not used to being able to do whatever you liked, whenever you liked it. So, you simply sat in your bunk for quite sometime before the small green child toddled up to you, a metal ball in its hand. That was how you spent most of your mornings, waking up to find the child waiting for you. You stayed in the hull, playing with him for most of the day until it came to the meals. Those you would eat in the kitchenette and that was also when you would meet Mando. He spent most of the time in the cockpit or tinkering somewhere on the ship where you did not yet dare venture. Sometimes you would talk, sometimes you wouldn’t but it was never uncomfortable. He would watch as you fed the child and as you ate, keeping you silent company. Then, you would leave so he could eat alone – you had learnt that he could not take his helmet off, only for family. The child would always stay with him when he ate.

One evening, already a week into your new life, Mando fixed his gaze on you and you felt it even through the black of his visor.

“You are welcome to leave the hull,” he said, overly casual, “You do not need to stay hidden in the dark unless you want to.”

That was how you found yourself spending most days with Mando up in the cockpit looking at the stars or just talking about what the galaxy looked like. He had seen so many planets already, visited so many systems, it was hard for you to imagine just the vastness of space that surrounded you. At some point, Mando had offered you some clothes but you had refused, finding an odd sort of comfort in remaining in the clothes that you had known almost all your life. At least for the beginning of your journey.

The first planet you set foot on was called Nevarro. It was a desert planet as well and part of you was grateful that the change in scenery was not as drastic as it could have been. The child stayed on the ship, looked up in the little pram and Mando has set a steep ace as he led you from the ship to the nearest town.

“Do you come here a lot?” you asked as you stumbled behind him on the slippery sand, “It just seems that you are very familiar with the place.”

Mando slowed his step, apparently noticing how you had fallen behind a few paces. “This is from where the guild operates,” he explained, “I am going to drop off the bounties and collect payment. There a few things we need to do and then we should be settled for some time.”

It made sense, of course, that he would get rid of the frozen people in his ship now and collect his payment. You nodded along with him, desperate to keep up with him and also hide your childish excitement at seeing a whole new place.

“We are going to get you some clothes as well,” he added and caught you by the arm before you stumbled over a rock.

The city was full of different people and businesses. It did not look too different from where you had come from but at the same time, it felt like night and day. No one here knew who you were or where you had come from. They did not know Ziven or and did not spare a second glance for you if any at all.

It was exhilarating, the freedom that came with anonymity.

Mando pulled you into a cantina full of bounty hunters. It was a funny sight, the way they all glared at Mando while still getting out of his way. The Mandalorian led you to a table where you met someone called Greef. Apparently, he was the one who distributed the bounties and from their conversation, you could gather that Mando always got a lot of them. While they were talking business, your eyes swept over your surroundings.

You had never been in a cantina before and it was exactly like one of the girls had described. There were so many different people, different species and they all looked like they could kill you if they wanted to.

Entranced with the surroundings, you had not noticed how the conversation between Mando and the man had come to a natural end, the stranger now fixing his gaze on you. The man raised his eyebrows at you, clearly surprised at your appearance but Mando offered no explanations and you did not want to engage with the stranger.

“Leave it to the Mandalorian to adopt strays along the way, huh?” he joked and you could not hide the embarrassment on your face. Was that what you were? A stray that he had picked up?

“Not a stray. She belongs with us,” Mando leant his elbows on the table, “I need you to give me a name, Greef.”

*

The name Greef had given you did not ring any familiar bells and you were a bit worried by how hurriedly Mando guided you through the streets. Your eyes lingered on some of the market stands, wanting to see what they offered, what all these different coloured things were, how the fabrics of the clothes felt like. But you decided against it. This was your first stop and you were sure you would have plenty of opportunities to roam the markets once Mando did not seem so rushed.

He led you into a mechanics shop, full of half-finished droids and ship pieces. For a place full of metal, it all just barely glinted in the sunlight, covered in soot and dust. In the middle of the shop, a small alien man was hunched over his current work, not acknowledging you. You watched as Mando produced something from his pack and slammed it down on the table.

“I need this deactivated. Can you do it?”

It took you a moment to fully recognize the device but then your blood froze. This was the keypad to a slave collar – _your_ slave collar. You were sure by now that the shock you felt was written all over your face. With wide eyes, you looked at him but his visor was trained on the mechanic who shuffled behind his work bank and took the device in his hands, inspecting it with narrowed eyes.

Of course, Mando was the one who had freed you. He had not once given you the feeling of being unsafe or being a slave to him but still, you had not anticipated that he would actually, truly, really _free_ you.

“’ Course I can. If you got the credits.”

Wordlessly, Mando slammed down a pouch. The alien greedily took it and stored it somewhere on his belt.

“Alright, I’ll need you to sit down.”

You sat on a table that was emptier than the others, your feet touching the ground only just. Your heartbeat got quicker as you observed how the mechanic tinkered with the keypad until it only gave a small beep and the lights went out. It was almost sad to watch; how easy it was for him to just destroy what had held you captive for so long.

Then, he got a screw from somewhere and began to work on your collar. He stood behind you, working on the mechanisms that were hidden in the side of the device. The pressure made you wince and shut your eyes, hoping to ease the discomfort. It was a collar, after all, constantly uncomfortable, and you certainly did not need any extra pressure on it. But he did this to free you, you reminded yourself, you could get through the pain if meant being permanently free.

Mando moved in front of you, taking your hands in his as if to calm you. You were not sure if he noticed that he was doing it, visor fixed on the place where the mechanic worked on you, but it gave you comfort and strength and so you lightly squeezed his hand in thanks. He squeezed back.

“Don’t be so rough on her.”

“Just trying to do my job, man. It’s gonna sting a little, girl, be prepared.”

And sting it did.

You could not hide the flinch that went through your body. It was bordering on painful, not quite there yet and very, very uncomfortable. Mando stepped even closer to you, your knees touching his thighs and gently squeezed your hand again. You felt his gloved thumb rubbing circles into your palm. Touched by how concerned he was, you tried to smile up at him, although it was probably a bit lopsided. The stinging got worse suddenly and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to blend the pain out. Your head fell forward, against the beskar plate on Mando’s chest but the mechanic did not deter from his work, mumbling a quiet ‘Almost there.’

Suddenly, the pressure eased and then it was gone.

 _Clank_.

You opened your eyes, still resting your forehead against the chest of the man in front of you. He made no move to pull away, still holding your hands so you allowed yourself to relax against him. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself get used to the weird feeling. Now that your throat was unrestricted for the first time in your life it felt like something was wrong or missing. It would take some time, you were sure, to grow accustomed to this change. Your eyes fell to the floor. The sound you had heard was the collar, falling to the floor. The one symbol of your captivity now nothing more than a broken piece of metal.

You could have cried at the sight.

You sat up, seeing a blurry reflection of yourself in the beskar of the bounty hunter’s armour. Out of reflex and curiosity, you lifted your hands to your neck, wanting to touch the marks on your skin. It looked red in the metal as if the metal collar you had worn before was replaced by redness around your skin. Before you could touch the skin, however, gloved hands caught them.

“It looks very sore,” Mando warned, “best not to touch it for a while I think.”

You nodded and lowered your hands to your lap. Unsure and unable to say what was going on in your mind, you remained silent. It was all so overwhelming. You were glad to be free, having yearned for it for so long but at the same time, it did not feel as you thought it would. The captivity you had grown up in had never ever left you a choice of what your future would look like. Now with the newly gained freedom, it also felt like you had lost some sort of security. Tomorrow was as undecided as the day after and the day after. What would you do? What did you _want_ to do?

But when you looked at Mando, some of the worries calmed down. You did not know what would happen tomorrow and you could not know. But you _could_ decide who you wanted to spend it with and your choice would fall on the Mandalorian who had freed you and his child, again and again. Of that you were sure.

The mechanic offered you to take the collar with you but you shook your head. You never ever wanted to see it again. Not if you could help it.

The Mandalorian led you back to the Razor Crest. He did not say anything but he had a hand on you at all times, whether it was a touch to your hand, your shoulder or guiding you by the small of your back. It was not a gesture of possession. It was his way of showing you he understood how deeply emotional you were.

Back on the ship, the child had been happy to see you again and giggled happily as his father threw him in the air. You saw that the frozen people were gone now, probably unloaded by the guild. Still, in a kind of fog, you sat down on one of the crates, watching both of them playing together. There was a relief in the air as if a weight had been lifted off all of your shoulders and you could breathe freely now. You had not noticed, these past few days, how scared you had been that Ziven might track you down after all – and Mando might have shared that same concern.

You could not bring yourself to say something so you simply walked over to the refresher. There was a little mirror above the sink, the edges already black with age. Mando had been right; the marks did look sore. They were an angry red, almost purple in some places, little scabs forming where the metal edges had rubbed too hard. You had never noticed how painful they must look to others. When faced with pain over an extended period of time, people tended to learn to live with it. How long had you lived with the pain in your childhood until you had forgotten about it?

Time was a blur at that point. You did not know how long you stood there, staring into the mirror but it did not matter. This felt like catharsis. Facing the new you that stood before you, the you that could decide what to do, what to like, what to hate. The you that had control over your life, the control you had been wishing for your entire life but that now overwhelmed you at its sudden arrival. Taking a deep breath, you began to braid your hair away from your face, searching for some pins so you could secure it up above your neck. You knew that wounds often needed fresh air to heal the best and you would do anything to get these marks off as quickly as possible.

Behind you, Mando appeared in the small room, his chest almost touching your back. He watched you for a moment without saying anything and you held his gaze in the mirror. With a final pin in your hair, you straightened the top of your dress, noticing that you had still forgotten to buy new clothes for you. But you did not want to go back out there, it would be too much. Too many people, too much light, too much sand, just too much.

Mando shifted behind you and reached around you to set a tiny jar on the sink in front of you. You picked it up, eyeing it curiously. It was a blue paste that smelled like herbs. You knew that smell well, having needed it once or twice (or more) in Ziven’s compound. It was a healing cream.

“For your neck.”

He stood behind you for a moment, not saying anything more but just _being_ there, until – “You know we will be here when you are ready, right?”

You nodded and smiled and he left you alone again.

Your heart felt oddly warm at his words. He cared – so much – and it made you feel giddy knowing you were safe with him, knowing that he would let you into his and the child’s life. That this could be your life, too, if you wanted it. In the small refresher, you took the jar in your hands and slowly started spreading the cool paste onto your throat. The pain eased quickly and you knew it would not be long until those wounds were gone from your skin, memories being the only remnant of the life you had gladly left behind.

That night, in the darkness of your bunk, tears streamed down your face, mourning the life you had lost and welcoming the one you had gained, working through the overwhelming feeling of endless possibilities and being happy that the secret dream you had long since categorized as unattainable had come into reality.

The next morning, he asked you again if you wanted to stay, gentleness in his voice and you were sure softness in his eyes. With a smile, you had looked at him and asked, “Where else would I want to be?”

*

Three weeks later you looked at the child, sitting in a wrap around your chest, and grinned.

You had landed on a Mid Rim planet just this morning with a market that Mando had deemed safe enough to visit for a little longer. The child was especially excited. He was constantly wriggling against your chest, turning his head this and that way to see all the new things around you. He cooed excitedly as you walked past a stand full of frogs, little hands stretching out towards them. Mando walked next to you, carrying a backpack that he had emptied. His deep chuckle reverberated through the visor as he lifted his hand to pet the child’s head. “You will get something to eat soon enough, you little womp rat.”

His gloves barely skimmed the skin above your neckline and you could feel the familiar heat rising in your cheeks. You came to halt, letting the child watch the frogs for a moment, basking in his happy coos and giggles. Mando made no move to take his hand away, brushing with his thumb across the child's head while his hand was trapped between the child and your skin, and you had no intention of changing it.

These past weeks you had grown familiar with each other, more than you had thought possible. He would talk to you, even make some jokes (he was surprisingly funny for a man who acted so serious all the time) and as the days went on, you found yourself seeking his closeness.

It was only you at first.

Having been denied any kind of touch from another human being, except the younglings sometimes, you had missed the way he had held your hand in the mechanic's shop or how his hand had felt on your back. So, you had taken matters into your hands, brushing his hands as you were both reaching for the rations, touching his arms when you were talking or sitting so close your shoulders would touch when you were eating and he was feeding the child.

It had not taken long, two days at the most, until he had reciprocated in kind.

Suddenly his gloves were always off when the ship was in hyperdrive, his bare hands holding yours in peaceful moments, touching your shoulder when he walked past you somewhere or simply sitting beside you, his side pressed against yours. It was like breaking a dam and from then on, he was always touching you, always being near you – and you loved it.

With being cooped up on the ship for almost three weeks straight, you had been a bit afraid of how that had influenced him. Perhaps he had just been lonely? Perhaps all of this would disappear once some sort of normality would resume? But now, being here in public and his gloved hand on your skin, you knew that these fears had been unfounded and you could go back to focus on all the new impressions this market offered you.

You yourself could barely contain your excitement. Almost vibrating with the energy that was coursing through you. This was your first ‘real’ stop – after a short supply run where only Mando had left the ship and had returned with fuel, rations and some new clothes for you.

(It had been endearing, you remembered, how he had returned with a pair of pants, a skirt and two shirts, apologizing that those were the only things the market had available. You loved them being the first things you owned after being freed from Ziven and had thrown your arms around him in a hug that he had returned.)

After the little frog show, the three of you stopped at every single stand, carefully looking over the crafted things. You spent hours like this, just exploring everything and you could feel Mando next to you relax a little. As the market grew fuller and you had to avoid to bump into more and more people, you felt Mando’s hand on the small of your back, leading you through the masses and making sure to stay close. You grew hot at the new closeness and his touch, so gentle and so different from how he presented himself to the outside world.

It was like you were in your own little bubble.

Said bubble was popped all too soon as you were standing in front of a stand, having just purchased new fabric for some clothes. Mando was still talking to the vendor in an alien language and you were just looking around, taking it all in. You noticed a man at the stand next to you and furrowed your brows – you were pretty sure you had seen him at the previous stand. He was just standing there, not really looking at the things the shop had to offer and you decided to keep an eye on him.

And sure enough, when Mando motioned for you to continue walking, the kid growing restless, you could see how the man started to walk as well. Fear gripped your heart. This could not be good, could it? Mando’s arm that had been on your back, was now wrapped completely around your waist, holding you to him, while you were walking. Not wanting to break the connection, you reached out to the hand that was not holding you, tugging at his sleeve.

“I think someone is following us,” you whispered and he tensed up immediately. With a more determined step, he led you through the outskirts of the market through streets and alleys until he finally stopped in a little back alley.

It was dark and narrow but only a few steps and then you would be back in the bustling centre of the market. The voices of the other people swept over you but you barely heard them over the frantic beating of your heart. The child cooed and his ears dropped down like some wilted flower. Probably because he could sense your distress, he was smart like that, the little one.

“Stay here. I will check it out. If I am not back in 10 minutes, go back to the ship and to Nevarro. Understand?”

You could only nod, terrified to see him go. What if something would happen to him? What if he got hurt? Or worse? You were not ready to travel on without him, you could not just abandon him here even if he had asked you to …

Minutes later, he returned, posture infinitely more relaxed and his pace slower, almost leisurely. Seeing him sent a wave of relief over you, although you could not hide your worry for him. “Is everything alright?”, you wanted to know, stepping towards him.

It must have been quite a sight, both you and the child staring at him with wide eyes. He chuckled and came to a stop in front of you. “It was nothing, mesh’la.”, he mumbled and you were sure you could hear the smile in his voice.

In the shadows of the alleyway, the child between you, Mando’s hands went to the back of your neck, cradling your head. Even through the black of his visor, you could feel how intensely he stared at you. With a slight tilt of his head towards you, he rested the forehead of his helmet against yours, gentle so as to not hurt you.

You were not sure what it meant but it felt intimate, more so than the hand-holding, than the touching. He stayed like that for a long time, exhaling deeply as his fingers played with your hair. Your hands were on the child, protecting its head from the cold of his armour. It was peaceful, standing like this, and you wished it could be like this forever.

It was at that moment that you realized that what you felt for Mando was way more than friendship and gratitude.

*

Weeks later, Mando had scheduled a little break in between bounty hunting, landing you on a mostly uninhabited planet. Although there were almost no people around, and you had to meet any of them yet, it felt incredibly alive. There were forests and meadows everywhere, rivers and streams and waterfalls rushing in the distance and so many animals that chirped from sun up to sundown – a natural symphony.

The Razor Crest was situated in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by high trees and streams. Right now, the ramp was open, flooding the hull with sunlight and the sounds from outside.

You were sitting on the floor by the open ramp, fabric in your lap and a needle in your hand.

You had ditched your old clothing some time ago, the glittering dress still bunched up somewhere behind the crates. On a day where credits were scarce, you were sure you could sell the material for at least a little amount of credits. Until then, you did not want to see it again. Now you were wearing a simple skirt that went down to your calves and a light shirt. The materials were rougher than the dresses you had worn at the compound but you had never felt more comfortable in your life.

To pass the time, you had taught yourself how to sew, noting that materials were way cheaper than just buying already made clothes. Besides, creating something from your own hands made you feel powerful and it was your first real hobby that you ever pursued and you were loving it. It offered a little escape into your thoughts, a way to calm down after a stressful day where the little one just kept on fussing and fussing, or something to do while you were sitting next to Mando in the cockpit, enjoying the companionable silence.

Already you had patched up Mando’s cloak – your very first experiment as he had let you work on it with a teasing lilt to his voice, “No one will notice if you accidentally put more holes in it.” – and embroidered one of your shirts with colourful thread, creating a little pattern around the sleeves. Now you were now focussing on making the little one another cloak.

But your focus on your work was time and again interrupted by the giggles from outside. On the meadow, Mando watched over the child as it toddled after some colourful butterflies. Mando tried to warn him to not run too fast but the child did not listen, of course, and sometimes stumbled into the soft grass, more giggles erupting from the small body. A smile formed on your lips, just hearing the happiness in their voices. How lucky you were, that this was your life now, sitting in the sun listening to the two people you loved the most playing around outside.

You could hear him coming up the ramp, the child still playing in front of the entrance, too invested in the local wildlife to follow its father. He came to a stop behind you and you made it a point to keep working on the fabric, your fingers working with the needle to finish the seam you had started hours ago. Rough fingertips appeared on your neck, gently following the lines that could be seen if one knew where to look.

They used to hurt, especially the first days after the collar had been removed. But with the paste and lots of fresh air, they had scabbed over and healed. Now they were just some faint lines that most people did not notice unless you would specifically draw their attention to it. They were sensitive still but not painful anymore.

No matter how faint they were, you still had tried to hide the lines in the beginning. Ashamed of what they represented, how Ziven, after all this time, had left his mark on you that you could not escape, no matter what you did. But now you were wearing them proudly, showing off how far you had come. Away from Ziven’s compound, you were now a woman free to make her own choices in life.

One of those choices was sitting behind you and you were sure it was the one thing you would never regret.

His fingers continued their path on your skin and finally, you looked up at him, basically baring your neck for him to touch in the process. Your hands lowered on your lap you simply stared at him with a content smile. Mando did not say anything but he did not need to. You relished in these moments where he showed his affections so openly, so tenderly.

It was different from the usual touches but so similar at the same time. The feelings heightened tenfold as his fingers wandered from the nape of your neck to the line under your jaw. The light touches tingled on your skin and you closed your eyes, happy to let him touch you. Your handiwork lay forgotten in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the needle.

“Don’t distract me,” you mumbled with a smile and heard his chuckle through the modulator.

“I’d never dream of it.”

Despite his joke, the atmosphere turned solemn and with furrowed brows, you twisted around to face him. He had been kneeling behind you, hand following your neck, not letting your sudden movement break the touch. Silently, you motioned for him to sit beside you on the ramp and he did. With the sun still quite high in the sky, both of you watched the baby wandering around, following the butterflies on his own. There was not another soul to see.

“Something is on your mind,” you noted, “What is it?”

Mando was still sitting beside you, his hand caressing your skin as if he was even unaware that he was doing it. Goosebumps formed on your skin from his attentions, a warmth spreading through your body. Could it be like this forever? The two of you just sitting there, watching the child he had adopted but that also almost felt like yours. You loved it and did not ever want to change it.

“We have come so far. I was just remembering.”

A deep breath escaped you, as you looked up into the sky. You seemed to do that a lot, too, lately. Remembering the little things from your fresh life with the two of them. Remembering what it had felt like when you had first met him, how you had instinctively trusted him without really knowing who he was. How he had trusted you with his child. How all your choices had led to this moment right here – sun in the sky and warm on your skin, the child playing in front of you and Mando right next to you.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It is, mesh’la.”

You did not need to turn your head to know that he was looking at you. By now, the all familiar tingling on your skin told you all you needed to know. He was always looking at you, watching out for you and you did not want to miss the feeling of his eyes on you for the world. You leant closer to him, your side brushing against his and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, fingers rubbing circles into your upper arm.

“Do you think we could get some fruit for tonight?” you wondered, “I swear I saw some berries over where the little one was playing earlier.”

“I’m sure we can find something. These ration bars are not made to be endured long term.”

You laughed at the distaste in his voice, “They can get pretty bad, huh?”

He chuckled as you sat up, arm falling to his side. The grass felt good on your bare feet as you walked over to the child that was already looking expectantly up at you. You lifted him up, spinning him around once before settling him on your hip.

“Come on let’s pick some berries for dinner, huh? Your father will be so excited!”

The child was immediately up for the idea, eyes sparkling with excitement as he cooed up at you, arms flailing. You made your way across the meadow towards where you though the berries might be and turned back when you felt the tingling on your back. Mando was standing on the ramp now, looking after you, “Be safe. Don’t stray too far.”

You laughed at his antics – always so worried for you it warmed your heart.

The initial pull you had felt towards him on your first meeting had not ceased, it had only grown stronger. Touches were more frequent even after your last visit to the market, hushed conversations in the dark when the child was sleeping added to the ones you had during the day in the cockpit. You knew now that you cared deeply for him, loved him even, but you were unsure if that was what he felt towards you.

Certainly, he cared about you, showing his affection in the way he touched you and how he remembered the small things you liked. But was that love, too? And how could you be sure it was without completely embarrassing yourself? Would he send you away if you were to confess to him?

The berry picking fell mostly to you as the child had spotted some frogs by the stream, chasing them on his tiny legs. You did not mind, enjoying the little show as you stored the berries by lifting your skirt and creating a little bowl. (Leave it to you to forget to take a bag with you.)

When it grew a bit colder, you coaxed the child to return to the ship. With the berries in your skirt and your hands needed to hold the fabric up so the fruits would not slip out, the child walked alongside you. It slowed you down quite a bit but it was nice seeing the little one stop to show you flowers or little creatures crawling on the stones by the stone. To see the world from a child’s perspective was like seeing a whole new world and you were so grateful to him showing you all these little things you might have missed otherwise.

You could tell that both of you were excited about dinner, the berries were the first fresh food you would eat in a while. Arriving at the ship, you immediately noticed the little campfire that burned in front of the entrance to the ship. Mando was holding something in it and it took you a moment to realize that he was cooking. The bounty hunter was cooking.

You almost let your skirt and berries fall from the shock. The smell was absolutely mouth-watering and you approached him curiously. It smelled faintly like meat but you were not sure if you had ever eaten anything like it.

The child had not stopped its walk to the hunter and had plopped down next to him, big eyes watching the flames doing their work.

“You are cooking?”

“Told you,” he grunted, holding the skewered meat over the flames, “Couldn’t see the ration bars anymore. Not sure what it is but I’m sure it's edible.”

You took great care in depositing the berries onto a little plate that the Mandalorian had set aside, sneaking one into your mouth and closing your eyes at the exploding of freshness on your tongue. You sat down next to him and the child, watching as he turned it this and that way until it was perfectly roasted. He divided the meat amongst three plates, giving one to you, setting one aside and taking the last one into his lap and helping the child break little pieces apart.

He did not eat himself, simply watching as you devoured the meat and the berries.

You had almost forgotten how good real food was compared to the pulverized rations you ate on the ship. As you had finished your meal, tempted to lick the plate clean for good measure, your gaze fell onto your companion and the child.

“I will bring this one into bed and you can eat your portion before it gets cold, alright?” you suggested, already standing up and freeing your skirt from the dust on your butt. The child had already fallen into its post-food daze, eyes falling closed every few seconds and you were sure it would not take long for sleep to find him.

Mando only grunted and put the child willingly into your arms. As you went up the ramp you could hear the hiss of his helmet being removed and made sure to only look into the dark interior of the ship and not outside where he was eating. As you had suspected, the child was almost asleep by the time you put him into his little pram. You stood by him for a few moments, stroking your hand over the little hairs on his head and over his ears, making sure that he was fully asleep and that Mando had enough time to eat his meal without having to rush it. He had done most of the work and he deserved to enjoy it just as much as you had without worrying about you accidentally seeing him.

When enough time had passed, you made your way back outside, footsteps extra loud to make sure that he could hear you from a mile away. By the time he entered your field of vision, his helmet was back on, empty plates next to him. The sun was setting now, the sky erupting into beautiful colours of dark blue and orange – you had never seen anything like it. You sat down next to him, your side pressed against his and stared up at the sky.

You remained like this for quite a while, simply enjoying each other’s company without the need to talk. From time to time, the man next to you would shift, brushing his hand along yours in the process. But the more time passed, the more he shuffled around and you wondered if he was uncomfortable. Before you could ask him, however, if he wanted to return to the ship, he stood up, almost throwing the plates in the fire. Curiously you looked up at him.

“I want to show you something,” he blurted out, “but you have to put the blindfold on. Is that alright?”

“If you want to show it, how can I see it when I can’t see?”

You had only meant to tease him but Mando did not seem to be in a humorous mood. He simply kept staring at you through the visor, not saying anything. The tension was coming off of him in waves, so you stood up and turned your back to him, “Alright, show me.”

You did not know where the blindfold had come from. Had he had it on him the entire time already? Had he planned this? And if yes, what _had_ he planned? He tied the soft fabric around your eyes gently, making sure none of your hair was caught in the knot.

Immediately, it felt like your remaining senses were heightened. You could smell the flowers, hear the waterfall in the distance, wind rushing through the trees and the leaves rustling.

Not seeing also made you insecure. Suddenly you were aware that you were on a strange planet, almost all alone and _you could not see_. You reached out a hand behind you tentatively, hoping to bump against Mando’s arm or hip, anything to remind you that he was there with you. Instead, your fingers grasped at thin air.

Panic rose in you, “Mando? Where are you?”

“I am here.”

Apart from being in front of your and sounding so much closer, something else made you furrow your brow. Somehow, he sounded different – deeper and richer but also … smoother? – and you could not exactly pinpoint why that was. Until you could.

You gasped in surprise.

_He had taken his helmet off._

Mando had taken his helmet off and he was standing so close to you, you could the feel the heat coming off of him even beneath the beskar. Blood coloured your cheeks and you felt how your shoulders tensed. Why had he done that? Was that not against his creed? Would he get in trouble for doing this? Why was he doing this in the first place?

Then, you felt his hands taking yours and your body relaxed. He had no gloves on and you took the time to feel the roughness and warmth of his skin. He was cradling your hands in his, almost tenderly, and the closeness made your heart soar. Even with the blindfold blocking out your sight you closed your eyes to take this moment in.

Mando did not say anything for a long time, his thumbs brushing over the skin on your hands. You felt one of his hands move up to your face, caressing your cheek, then your jaw and then settling on the back of your neck. Like a few hours ago, his fingers touched your scars, goosebumps erupting on your skin. The hand curled around your neck more tightly and pushed your head towards his. Before you could ask what was going on, your forehead bumped into his, skin against skin and a shuddering breath escaped you.

_You were so close._

“Mesh’la,” he whispered into the still evening air, you could almost feel his lips moving, so close were you, “Can I kiss you?”

By the maker, this was really happening. Almost instinctively your tongue came out to wet your lips, the thought of kissing the man you had dreamed about these last few weeks too much for your brain to handle. You were unaware of what you were doing until you heard a groan – a kriffing _groan_ – coming from Mando and his hand splayed from your nape into your hair, gently tugging your head up so your noses were touching. What was the question again?

You were so excited, you barely managed a nod, hoping that the minuscule movement of your head was enough for Mando to finally –

His lips were on yours instantly, much softer than you had expected them to be. It was just a gentle peck against your lips, almost shy in a way. You could feel the scruff in his cheeks and you had to smile at the thought of him having a little stubble. He pulled back, not completely, and paused for a moment. You let the moment linger between you. Never getting enough of this magical feeling that flowed through you every time you touched.

Then there was another kiss against your lips and another and another, each longer than the last until you grew bolder and wrapped your arms around his neck, not wanting to let him go. The hand not holding your neck moved to your waist pulling your flush against his body and a sigh escaped your lips. His tongue slipped out to taste you and this was it. This right there was something you would never want to miss from now on.

As you explored each other’s mouths, your fingers buried themselves in his hair at the nape of his neck. It was thick and slightly curly and even if you had wanted to you could not help but sift your fingers through it. He growled and shivers wrecked your body at the sound against your lips. You had never been kissed like that before and you wanted it – wanted more of him and of this for the rest of your days. How could people ever go without kissing the ones they loved when it felt so good?

His mouth moved away from you and you followed him with your lips, a whine escaping you because you wanted more, you _needed_ more. Instead, his mouth dove into your neck, lips brushing over our marks, tongue laving at them, teeth nibbling along your jaw and you were sure if he had not held you your legs would not have been able to carry you.

“Mesh’la,” his voice was raspy as he whispered against your neck, sucking on your pulse point, “Tell me I am not the only one feeling like this.”

“You are not,” you gasped out, words heavy on your tongue as he raised his head. You felt like you had just run across all of Mos Eisley, your heart beating so hard against your chest you were sure he could hear it, completely out of breath. He was looking at you, you could feel the tingling all over your face and a smile formed on your lips. His nose, a little hooked you thought, brushed against yours and it was as if the galaxy was standing still. Nothing outside your little bubble on this planet existed that could have pulled you away from each other. Now you just basked in the happiness between the two of you.

“Good,” he whispered, “because I want more of this, if you want it too, mesh’la. I want to kiss you like this every day whenever you want. I want you to call me Din. I want to call you cyare and raise my child with you.”

Your eyes widened beneath the blindfold, “Din? Is that your real name?”

“It is.”

“I’d like that,” you whispered against his lips, now broadly grinning, “I want that too. All of it, Din.”

When the blindfold fell from your head, it was dark outside. The fire had grown dim and you could barely see Din in front of you, only the reflection on the beskar giving away that he was standing right in front of you. He had put his helmet back on and was looking at you. With a smile, you bumped your forehead against his, now pretty sure that it meant something significant to him, and he squeezed your hand in response. Walking up the ramp, back inside, you watched as he checked up on the child sleeping in his little pram.

“Wait,” you suddenly remembered, “you haven’t told me what _cyare_ means.”

His visor turned to look at you, absolute adoration in his voice as he spoke.

“It means beloved.”


End file.
